Quotes
by MasteringAMuggleLife
Summary: A string of one shots inspired by quotes from books that I had read. Pokeshipping, most likely later Egoshipping and Contestantshipping, perhaps more.
1. Graham Greene, Brighton Rock

**"Look at me. I've never changed. It's like those sticks of rock: bite it all the way down, you'll still read Brighton. That's human nature."**

**-Graham Greene, Brighton Rock**

Her estrangement from her emotions were of no secret. She felt no anger, no love, no nothing- partially due to the realisation of her passion as a weakness and partially due to the apparent consistency of a pain that once bested her. No. After that day; she changed. An idea struck and so she contracted the aid of three females she had since detached herself from. Daisy, Violet and Lily transformed the young heartbroken girl into an undeterrable woman of unmistaken beauty. The change had quickly become internalised and so emerged the new and improved Misty Waterflower, a woman that quickly swiped the hearts of each of the city's occupants. Men were dazzled by her beauty, availability and uncaring attitude while women marvelled at her refined artistry with a brewing jealousy- both of which a cliche that seemed to stalk the female. But she would not allow that to hinder her, or anything other for that matter.

As always she strutted the red carpeted pavements: bold sunglasses shielding her eyes, a short blue dress sticking to the silky skin of her body yet somewhat covered by the white blazer she adorned, whilst ample heeled shoes mould around each foot. Meanwhile her face was painted to conceal any nonexistent facial flaws, black encircled the eyes with blue highlights following in an outer circle, accentuating the blossoming blue buds in the jungle of her eyes, and a nude gloss masked her lips. A typical uniform of a 'Sensational Sister' a title that meant little to the redhead but so much to so many others.

Her destination was in sight and a sigh of relief begged to be released but pride swallowed it in its entirety. By now her souls pulsed in rhythm with her slow beating heart. The pain was worth the beauty, or so she told herself.

Outside she could hear the loud embarrassing declarations of drunken love, misunderstood and misconstrued thoughts that would soon becoming of her too. For a moment she lingered, just lingered. There was once a time she would walk past such a place fashioning a snarl of disgust, and just as often pushing away strangers encapsulated in their beverages so much so, they would take their chance on the stubborn gym leader. How times change, or at least least how people do.

Rolling her eyes at her own self reflection she entered, casually waving off the muscled man at the door and heading straight for her preserved table next to the three girls she now called 'sisters', again a title that seemed meaningless to her as did many nowadays.

"So then he, like, totally pretended as if that wasn't his girlfriend, like, really, like I even care..." Even in sentences the words sprouted by the girl upheld no value to the redhead as she eyes scoured the bar for lonely men to prey on, they were always her favourite: so easy to break, so much fun to be broken.

"Misty, are you, like, listening to me?" With a turn of her head and a slight giggle she spoke:

"Lily, the guy is, like, such a player but as you've always said some players need to be showed how to play the game." The redhead smiled at the girl already knowing that the statement was enough of a perfect prediction of her sibling's predictability to allow her to continue scouting the males.

No, no, no, no- wait. In her vision sat a raven haired man, slumped over a drink of what she would guess to be whiskey as he talked to an unfortunate bartender, continuing to clean the bar equipment. Perfect.

"I will be right back ladies, just going to get a drink does anyone, like, want one?" Her mimicking of their speech received a shake of the head from each of the three alongside a trio of knowing glances, knowing that the girl would not be returning to their table tonight. After all they'd taught her well, but they couldn't deny it was still a surprise she had mastered and surpassed their skills so quickly, then again she was always a quick learner- not that they'd know that.

With a fervent swagger in her step she strode to the unoccupied seat beside her chosen victim and sweetly smiled at the bartender as a indicator for a drink to which he quickly complied. Once settled she half turned to the man beside her before realising him to be a boy of her age. The twenty four year old (or at least of a similar age) was tanned with a chiselled jaw and strong cheek bones, his lips were dry and cracked. His hair, unbrushed, uncontrollable, and undoubtably a form of the terribly familiar 'hat hair'.

Strumming her fingers she debated whether to continue or to begin a new pursuit.

"Can I help you with something?"

It was only now she realised she had been staring at him whilst observing her thoughts, a fact that now aided her in her decision.

"I don't know, can you?" Her voice, a sweet song. For the first time the boy looked to her and her heart stopped, literally.

Chocolate, coffee beans and autumn acorns. His eyes so distant, so aggravated but yet so... Familiar?

"Well if I knew, I wouldn't be asking now would I?" A quirky irritation shone through his tone as he stared down the girl then looked away, his eyes rolling as he did so. She heard the slight scoff and was stumped as to his reaction. However she remained unfazed. Undeterred as usual.

"Maybe you'd just want my attention?" Gracing her face was a playful smirk, a smirk very well adjusted to her little game.

"Now, do tell me why I'd want that." Again, he made eye contact, stared right through her facade as he innocently asked his question. She could feel a slight agitation build within her at his obliviousness on the nature of flirting.

"Maybe because you thought I was pretty?" The redhead had never been big headed, never one to boast about her looks but was well aware she was not ugly (though she's still deny being anything more). Her straightforwardness was unable to break the wall of density that surrounded the boy.

"Maybe." His response caused her smirk to grow to grin status, her fingers subconsciously tracing the rim of a glass as she purposely avoided his gaze. For some reason a stray blush powdered her button nose. "If you didn't wear so much makeup, then maybe."

It had been a while since Misty had been so angry, so frustrated, so, so- automatically her hands balled into fists. But then she remembered. That was not who she was anymore. Slipping her hands into her lap she glanced in his general direction but kept her focus trained on a spot just slightly above his head, since his position had shifted in a cycle. Mentally she reminded her thought processor that it would not be the first time that she had been rejected though never so abruptly.

"Excuse me?" Her question was dignified by a silent shrug of the shoulders, uncaring at her thoughts. Her anger bubbled, finally beginning to flow over her usually well maintained cauldron. She should be the one uncaring. He should have been easy prey. She should not have blushed moments ago. He should be fawning over her flirtations. She should not be getting so angry right now.

"Are you done now? 'Cause I just came here for a quiet drink before I get back on the road again." That was all it took. In seconds the preservation she had prided herself on for the previous few years was kicked to the curb as her anger bested her.

"Would you are to share why you're being so rude?" The annoyance must have been evident in her voice as he smirked at the thin air in front of him, further serving to provide a need of ammunition for Misty.

"Listen here you little twerp-" her anger driven talk was interrupted by the boy, rolling his eyes once more.

"God if one more person calls me that-"

"- I said listen-"

"-I know what you said." Her glare penetrated the boys and he broke free of the stare-off, seemingly affected but not by what he was expected to be bothered by.

"Just go, if I want some scrawny girl to shout at me I've got friends I can give a call, okay?"

And at that moment it all clicked into place. The hat hair, eyes, the response to 'twerp' and now, the use of a word that brought back an overflow of memories.

"Ash..." So small was her voice, it was consumed by the slight breeze. On the other hand, it was loud enough to be heard by her counterpart who looked curiously in her direction.

"Have we met before?"

Before he could figure it out Misty darted from the bar stool, scrounging through the school of people swimming around the dance floor. But she hadn't been quick enough.

It had taken a second- that was all. To realise this girl was, well, his girl (or as he liked to think). In a tone a lot louder than hers he questioned:

"Misty?" In spite of his question he was not met with an answer or even the gaze of the woman he had been speaking to. As soon as he noticed her disappearance he scoped the room in hope of finding her and that he did. A bright current of orange drew his eye and soon he was caught in a chase. He pushed the crowd until he reached the entrance where he was close enough to hook his hand around her upper arm and steer his friend into an alley to talk. The fleeting look in her eye unnerved his confident person. So, seizing what may be his last chance to reconcile with her he situated both arms on the wall behind her petite frame. She had nowhere to run now.

"Misty?" No response. Not even a glance. "I know it's you." Still, nothing. "Dammit Misty. Just talk to me." And just like a tree she shied away from him in the breeze but remained in a speechless state. "What are you doing here and why are you dressed like- that?" The malice was unintentional but nonetheless it was there and likewise nonetheless it hurt the redhead.

"I think I'm within my right to be where I want and to wear what I want." The growl emitted didn't catch the boy off guard in fact it was the most natural thing Misty could do with him.

"Okay, so now we're getting somewhere. And I didn't mean it like that you know I can be a little-"

"- Dumb?"

"Dense..." He glared, an action that Misty had to fight to suppress a smile at. "But, it's just, this isn't you." The last part was rushed, unrehearsed, pure Ash.

"This is me." She ground out in denial.

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." At each turn they'd gotten closer, and now Misty was close enough to see the nearly microscopic freckles dotting the boys nose and cheeks. Adorable. As they noted their predicament both took a step back, Ash no longer leaned against the wall. The battle for Misty was lost, however, as a sincere and heartfelt smile naturally curved her polished lips.

"Get real Misty." And, just like that, the smile was gone, replaced with a sigh of exhaustion.

"You get real. You don't even know me."

"I know you enough to know this isn't you." Silence. "Are you going to tell me you like those stupid heel-y things you have on your feet?" A nod signified the shoes she had on, her resolve loosening (a matter once impossible yet now within seconds a cube of melting ice). And all because Ash was right. They were horrid. They made her feet ache within the ten minute walk here and were nipping at her skin with every given move. But that was not information she was about to enclose to Ash.

"I do." A questioning eyebrow raise.

"You do, huh? Okay then. And what about this dress? You like that too I guess then?" Again, no. She despised the too-tight-cotton practically knitted to her skin, exposing too much and doing absolutely nothing to protect her body from the ricocheting pellets of cold air. Every time she moved the hem would ride too far up and she had to battle the embarrassment and need to push it down, down further all the way past her knees.

"I do." No eyebrow this time, rather a dry laugh as he looked at an opening of their alleyway.

"Cut the crap." Ever the abrupt Ash. But it startled her, moreso the fact that her facade was merely a speck- it was a true marvel how he had always, so easily, provoked such a variety of emotions from the girl.

He was poison, she concluded. She needed to remove her self from the situation, remove herself from him if she wanted any hope of ever maintaining her masquerade, her only means of protection from all the emotional pain. In a mad dash she ran but was stopped by Ash's arm around her waist, her back flush against his stomach. He was warm. This was the reason she sunk into his embrace, or so she convinced her conscience.

"You're battling and arguing, not girly and shopping." That must have made a lot more sense in the boy's head because to Misty it sounded ludicrous, though (in an attempt to keep the new Misty alive) did not serve him an insult.

"I am, what I am."

"That you are and you're not this."

"I am! Okay this is what I am. This. Is. Me. Now." At each syllable she pushed against her, admittedly muscly, restraints but to no avail, she found herself to still be encaptured in his arms. It would seem he'd grown strong over the last couple of years. With a few deep breaths she let out a sigh of distress which failed to do two things: alert a single soul or cause Ash to grow concern for her well being and release her that instant. But alas she was still in grasp. With one last wiggle she sank back down.

"Why are you fighting so hard against this?"

"I don't know, maybe because getting bear hugs off guys isn't really my thing?" The heated glare she felt insinuated that wasn't what he meant. And for a moment she considered playing dumb. Contrary to her stubbornness though she gave up. Finally letting loose a little.

"Can we go to the peer, go for a walk?" The suggestion took the boy by surprise but he, hesitantly, let her go and two walked together, Ash following closely behind. She couldn't help but overhear his mutter when he coasted an occasional disapproving glance at her attire.

"I liked the _real_ Misty better." Subconsciously she grabbed her blazer closer to her body, feeling self conscious. Ash mistook this for her being cold, therefore causing him to the his jacks off and offer it to her. She was cold, freezing in fact, but the weather was a matter she'd learned to deal with. Instead she turned away and replied to his message- to his utter shock.

"You mean the _old_ Misty not real."

At the newly established peer, complete with fair ground and stores. Both of which Misty felt Ash's gaze strip to as they walked past, staring in amazement and excitement just like the young boy she remembered. The reminisce caused her real smile to reappear, something Ash didn't fail to notice.

Misty heard the subtle rumble of the hunger in Ash, now mature enough to restrain himself from running into the first food shop he saw. She gripped his hand, drawing his attention (and a blush) to her as she proceeded to do so, and ambled to a stall, ordering a carton of chips and handing them to him. His manners seemingly ended there as he snatched the carton and dug in with greed. When Misty tried to take one he didn't return to that whiny ten year old but playfully growled- half serious.

"Mine."

"I paid for them!" After moving them from her reach she giggled sincerely. While waiting she removed her shoes and let down her hair and the two chatted, reminisced, giggled and argued. Just like old times.

Turns out it's pretty impossible to change who you really are, Misty concluded.

And the rest, as they say is history.


	2. John Green, Looking for Alaska

**"When adults say, "Teenagers think they are invincible" with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail."**

**- John Green, Looking For Alaska**

I had planned to go, in fact I had dressed and leered throughout the route that morning, hours before the ceremony would commence. It had been closed then, naturally with the time being that of sun's grand entrance.

The step outside, still cold, but I was left unoffended by the touch of temperature as my body remained numb, as it had for the past few days now, so I stayed there frozen to the step my body willing to move yet my brain overriding any commands. I stayed- for hours I stayed. Truthfully it was dawning close to the custom when I decided to move, to where, I was clueless however my legs did not mind and the walk soon transformer into a fearful run. I ran from the memories; barred fangs, marred faces, charred by the corruption of opinions, all chasing my weak figure through forests and across fields and against the current of an unsuspecting river. I just... ran.

The outcome to my exercise would turn out to be one my subconscious had predetermined as I passed my home and straight through another long pasture of still trees. I ran and ran, despite the pain threatening to collapse my legs, despite the creeks in my shoulders and elbows as the hinge swept back and forth, despite my mind screaming to stop, to listen to sense, to go back before it would begin. But, I couldn't. I needed to run. Ands that I surely did.

The destination was a place I had, at one point in my life, lived in. _They_ fucked that up. We were- "unhealthy" for one another. But I hadn't ever cared because being with him had been far less painful that being without him, a notion I was well aware of thanks to experience, an experience I'd now be forced to relive. It had appeared he held the same thoughts, that he didn't care, that the benefits outweighed the risks, at least for him. But others, papers, investigators, writers, friends, family. They couldn't see past the flying insults or the demeaning words or even the vivid screams. They never saw the hidden hand holding with fingers solidly interlocked, the whispers of a secret love, the warms hugs of greeting in bed- in the morning, at night, the passionate and infinite hours after one of our famously explosive talks, the sacred glances, the tears shed only for one another or the now broken promises of forever. They didn't _see_. They thought we were best apart. They were indubitably wrong. And now I'm here and alone and cold.

He'd left, only days before today. "Too hurtful to see you and pretend I don't care" - his words to me. I'd screamed, pushed him. Oh, how I wish I hadn't. I should have held him. Told him they're wrong. They are, for once I swear they are. But their poisonous words were pulsating through my mind mimicking the ways of my own natural thoughts and it is now, today, here, in this moment, that I realise. I realise how wrong they were, how wrong I was, how wrong he is.

For a second I forget. I have to change his mind!

How forgetful of me...

He'd left. The ship came at one, he'd asked me to come, tell no one and we could just, say good bye. The two of us had revised plans of running- together. Someone would have found us, as they had our home in the derelict woods. Then what? Our families, they'd had been so disappointed. It shouldn't have mattered though. But it did, it had. And so goodbye was all we were left with. And I couldn't even give him that. Goodbye wasn't enough and if I couldn't have it all I wouldn't have any because the agony for more was a desolate beg, forever destined to be thwarted by the toxicity around Ash and I. No, I'd sobbed that day, knowing too much, wishing he'd left without a word. How selfish. How selfish that he now is _gone_, left without a word and all I can do is wish he was back that he asked for help, my help, any help. Just to save his life. I hate him for not calling for help, for just giving up. So defeatist of him, so un-Ash. I hate him. The one battle he had to win. The one that was most important. He gives up? I hate him for it. He should have won as he had his much loved title. He should have won as he had against the wide variety of extraordinary legendaries he had contented against. I hate him. I do, with every fibre of my being, I hate him. I do: I really, really do.

Finally my body sagged. A heap of bones laid on the floor. _We'd_ failed. I sobbed.

He'd hate to see me like this. Good. I imagine him chastising my erratic behaviour, telling me how he's invincible. Always will be. And for a minuscule second I scoff and hate him for lying but he _didn't_. I sit up. I breathe in. Energy never dies. I breathe out. Energy changes forms. I breathe in. But never once does it die. I breathe out. And then, I cried.

I cried, I cried, I cried... For he had not left me, he was waiting.

* * *

**[A/N:]** Far too overdramatic for the real world, in terms of the twos situation also way ooc and i know for a fact i pretty much over did the repetition. BUT I enjoyed writing it and I'm not too upset with how it turned out and hope you guys feel the same but if not give a long (or short) rant on what was wrong, what you'd change, how it could be improved. Feel free to be harsh.

_Nelly_: U feel exactly the same, plus it's a very plausible situation that I think is realistic though that could just be my opinion, anyway thanks for dropping a review, it really does mean a lot.

_RedHoodLover_: Thank you! I hope you read and enjoy this much as the last.

_Ready to fly_: Thank you so much, and not just for reviewing on this story, it really makes me smile to see you've reviewed because of the fact you've stuck with my other stories and I can honest not out into words how much that means, so really thank you. Also thanks for all the kind words and though I'd never imagine myself as anywhere close to a 'great writer' I can honestly say that it put a massive smile on my face. Hopefully you enjoy this one too. :D

Hello, so I was wondering if you'd guys would be interested in a mini book review at the end of each chapter, just the words yes or no will suffice, oh you can pm me or you can review with any possible books too that you've enjoyed and would recommend, may take a while for me to get around to them but I always love to know I have some backups, so the next book I'm planning on reading is Robin Hood by Henry Gilbert, though if I find a quote in A fault in our stars, a book I read before Brighton rock, then I may write a oneshot on that beforehand, just a heads up.


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